


The Mysterious Red Keep

by Popcorners



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gothic, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Rhaegar is still alive, Romance, Slow Burn, think more Jane Austen than anything else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popcorners/pseuds/Popcorners
Summary: Arya Stark never heard of her Cousin Jon or Uncle Rhaegar before she was sent to visit them for the month. The Targaryen family were mysterious and strange to her and she was afraid she’d never survive in the South without some connection to her Northern family. Will she find herself a victim just like her Aunt Lyanna?





	1. Chapter 1

“She told herself it was stuff and nonsense, there was nothing scary about the room, but her hand still shook as she reached up to pull back the large dragon tapestry that hung at the end of the room. Sure that she would only find an open window on its other side that made it shake. Instead she found a small doorway, no bigger than she was. She took a deep breath, tried the handle, praying that it would be locked and she could return to the warmth of her bed, but it gave way easily and the door opened without a creak, as if it was a regularly used passageway. She stood at the doorway and stared into the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust but the darkness was so intense. Her heart was racing in her chest, but Arya was stronger than that. ‘Fear cuts deeper than a sword,’ she said, entered the dark room and—“

Robb dropped the book he was holding on the floor with a loud bang and Arya jumped out of her seat. Robb was doubled over, holding his sides, in laughter, “you should have seen your face!” he said.

“You’re so stupid,”Arya replied and settled back into her fathers chair by the fire.  
“Oh, I am so sorry, Arya, but I couldn’t resist, you were too into that story.”  
“It’s not my fault you’re a good storyteller. Honestly, you should write that down.”  
“Mother would love that, me wasting my time writing.”  
“What she doesn’t know…” Arya said with a wink.  
“Won’t kill her,” Robb finished.  
  
Robb was the closest of Arya’s siblings. They finished each others sentences and for her 11th birthday he gave her a sword, Needle to practice with. One that was perfect for her so she wouldn’t hurt herself trying to practice with his.  
She thought when he got older, he’d leave her behind, pay more attention to his duties around the estate, but they were as close as ever. She wished she could have such an easy relationship with all of her siblings, but Bran was too engrossed in his books to notice her and Sansa actively avoided her. She played with Rickon but she couldn’t speak to him like she did to Robb, and as she got older, she needed someone to talk to, especially now. She was glad that Robb still had time to tease her and tell her stories.

 

* * *

 

Her seventeenth birthday passed a month before and with it a letter from an uncle she never heard of before wishing her a happy birthday. A letter for her father accompanied it and when he read it, his face turned pale and he disappeared into his study with Catelyn to discuss its contents. A week later she was called into her fathers study.

“Arya,” her father motioned for her to sit in his big leather chair near the fire, while he took the footstool that accompanied it, “do you remember your cousin Jon?”  
“Jon? No, should I?”  
“No, you were too young when he stayed with us last time but he is your Aunt Lyanna’s son. I received a letter from his father requesting a visit.”  
“A visit? Are they coming here?” Arya was confused, it was off for her father to be just telling her of the visit, but then she remembered how rambunctious of a person she was and he was probably telling her she’d need to be on her best behavior.  
“No,” her father said softly.  
“Are we going there?”  
“No, you are.”  
“I am? By myself?”  
“Yes,” her father stood up and began worrying things on his desk, “Bran and Robb are far too busy with their duties and studies here, Rickon is far too young, and your mother requires Sansa’s help.”  
“But why do I have to go by myself?”  
“I figured you’d like the adventure. Your always going on with Robb about how much you’d like to travel, well this is your chance. We need an envoy and I’ve chosen you.”  
Something was off about her father. Yes, she did want to travel, but her father indulged her only so far, while her mother usually put down her ideas as silly.

 

* * *

 

“I wish you were coming with me,”said Arya.  
“Me too, but you’ll just have to write to me everyday so I know what Kings Landing is like. What our Cousin Jon and Uncle Rhaegar are like. It would be like I’m there.”  
“But you wont really be. What if they’re horrible?”  
“No, they’re not. Well, at least Cousin Jon’s not, I remember him. He was a very quite kid, kind of like you when you calm down. Uncle Rhaegar was alright as far as I can remember. He and Aunt Lyanna were madly in love I heard father say once.”  
“If they were madly in love, then why is this the first time I’m hearing about them?”  
“I don’t know. I think Uncle Rhaegar was pretty upset when Aunt Lyanna died, maybe he didn’t want to be anyplace that reminded him of her.”  
“Maybe, but its still strange to be going to visit them for a month when I have never heard of them.”  
“Yeah, but you’ll be fine. You can make friends with a broom, just make friends and next thing you know, the month is over and we’ll have to drag you out of there kicking and screaming.”

 

* * *

 

“Have you packed your trunk yet?” Catelyn asked Arya at dinner the next day, “I don’t want you leaving it for tomorrow morning.”  
“I’m almost done,” Arya spread her dinner around her plate to make it appear as though she ate it all, truth be told her stomach was in knots all day, she’d be leaving tomorrow and didn’t want to.  
“I’ll come up later and check on it, and finish your dinner, Arya.”  
“I can’t, I’m not feeling well,” Arya informed her, earning a snort from her sister.  
“You just don’t want to eat your peas,” Sansa said quietly from across the table, delicately eating each pea one by one.  
“Sansa, leave your sister alone,” said Ned, from the head of the table, “Arya, you may be excused to finish packing.”

Arya left the table and headed for her room to finish packing. She secured Needle at the bottom of the trunk and placed Robb’s old breeches and tops on top of it. She hid those with dresses and gloves so that when her mother checked on her progress, she’d have no cause to search deeper.  
A faint knock came at the door while she tried to close her trunk. “Come in.” Robb entered the room cradling something in his jacket, “What have you got there?” Arya said from her seat atop her trunk.  
“Come see.” Robb opened his jacket a bit and Arya’s eyes met the cutest pair of puppies laying in Robbs arms, a grey one and an even tinier white one.  
“Father and I found them on our walk through the grounds this morning. There were six of them, one for each of us and one for Cousin Jon. Take your pick.” At those words the grey one leaped out of his arms and into Arya’s, “Or let her pick for you.”  
“Oh she is so precious. But how am I going to take one to Cousin Jon?”  
“I already spoke to father about it, you’d have to be careful with this one, he was the runt of the litter, and he might not survive to Kings Landing. The cooks are packing food for them and when you stop on the road, Jory is aware that they will need to eat as well. What are you going to name her?”  
“Nym.”  
“Nym? Like the old fairytale? The girl who rode a dragon into battle.”  
“Yes. Doesn’t she look like she’d be fearless in battle?” She held Nym up for Robbs approval.  
“Just like you. Do you need help closing your trunk?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Red Keep was a formidable building; the red brick was a bold choice to be sure. On the drive up to it, with the setting sun hitting it at just the right angle, Arya thought it looked as though it was awash in blood. The puppies beside her whined and she absently stroked their furs. The white runt of the litter survived the 5 day journey to Kings Landing. Arya almost did not. She hated being cooped up in a carriage, her and the puppies only chance to stretch their legs were when they stopped at inns at night and to rest the horses, Jory keeping a diligent eye on all of them.

Only one servant greeted them at the front of the house, a bald man with a paunchy belly, his hands hidden behind his back. Arya scooped the puppies up and met him at the door, Jory and his son who accompanied them, struggled with her trunk.  
“The Messrs. apologize for not being here to greet you, Miss Stark. The Lord Jon Targaryen of Dragonstone is visiting his estate and Duke Targaryen has retired for the evening,” he led the way into the front hall, a large stone entryway with only a few candles lit for illumination. “I will show you to your rooms. You will find that Duke Targaryen enjoys a particularly rigid schedule.” The servant walked fast and Arya had a hard time keeping up with him, Jory And his son even more so with her heavy trunk.  
“Luncheon is at 2pm; dinner at 6. Please try to be on time as he detests waiting on anyone. Breakfast is a much more leisurely affair. You can take it in your room or in the parlor. Should you need a maid to help you dress, we will fetch one of the girls from town to help you.” At the top of the stairs, the servant stopped and gesticulated to the dark hallway on their right, “you are not allowed in this section of the house, Duke Targaryen’s rooms are down through there.”  
  
Arya tried to soak it all in. The estate was far larger than Winterfell, and darker too. The servant only used one candle to light the way up to Arya’s rooms and she was sure, she’d get lost as soon as she was alone and had to do it herself. Large tapestries hung on the walls depicting dragons facing each other in battle, dragons killing scores of men on the battlefield, and one of an old man with a scared face and blue eyes on a field of snow.

“Do you know—,” Arya’s voice echoed through the halls and she lowered it to match the servants, “do you know when Lord Targaryen will be returning from his estate?”  
“He did not say, but he doesn’t stay there long. These are your rooms,” they stopped at a pair of beautifully carved wood doors, the scene in it a dragon in mid flight as though it were about to jump out of the wood.

The servant opened the door for them, “My name is Varys, should you need me.” Varys turned on his heels and departed down the long corridor, the only source of light, save the open curtains in her rooms, departing with him.

“Warm welcome,” Jory said while trying to catch his breath, “We best be off Arya Underfoot, we have a long journey back to Winterfell.”  
Arya wanted to launch herself at Jory for one last hug from her last connection to Winterfell in this place, “I’ll see you off,” she said instead.  
“Don’t trouble yourself, you’d probably get lost in the dark trying to find your way back to your room. Take care of yourself Arya.” Jory took one last look at her and both he and his son bowed their heads to her, before closing the door and leaving.

Nym wriggled in her arms, disturbing the white one from his slumber. She set them down on the floor and Nym immediately ran to worry the curtains that hung around the bed. The white one set himself underneath the chair by the fireplace, yawned and fell back asleep.

Arya took a look around her room. It was vast and drafty. She was surprised how cold the Red Keep was; it was winter but she was further south and had expected it to be warmer than the winters back home. The bed looked warm, piled up with furs, and the curtains that surrounded it look like they would keep the cold out. The fireplace was dead and cold but Arya did not want to try to find the servant, Varys in order to get it lit.

Tapestries lined these walls as they did downstairs and her mind flashed to the story Robb told her before she left. “Fear cuts deeper than a sword,” she told herself with a small smile and taking advantage of the light streaming in through the windows, she peeked behind every tapestry to find only stone walls, cold to the touch but none giving way to a secret passageway. _They must insulate the walls from the cold, just like back at home._

She had nothing to do but wait for either a servant to fetch her to meet Duke Targaryen or dinner in 2 hours. She paced the room, occasionally stopping Nym from chewing a hole through the curtain. She unpacked her trunk, stashing Needle under the mattress, and she sat around doing absolutely nothing. She heard a distant clock strike 5 and she sighed loudly. More pacing in the room did nothing to alleviate her boredom and she still had a way to go before dinner.  
It appeared no one would fetch her and unless she found the dining room herself, she’d never be on time for any of the meals. She searched around the room for a match to light the solitary candle by her bed, but came up empty handed.  
“Gods did they even know I was coming,” she slammed the cabinet shut and decided to venture through the dark house without the candle. Taking one last look at the puppies and seeing Nym settle next to the white one for a nap, she opened the door and set out in search of a servant.

Rather than taking a right at her door that would lead her back to the main staircase, she took a left and went down the dark hallway away from the main body of the house. She ran her hand along the wall in an effort to stop herself from bumping into any furniture that was hiding in the dark. She felt doorways along the way but her small knocks went unanswered and the handles did not give way. At the end of the hallway, she found herself at a set of stairs, one leading up and the other down, both into darkness, but her ears did pick up some noise from downstairs.

She descended the stairs and found it getting progressively lighter. She stopped herself from descending further when she heard the voices,  
“What of my father, Varys?”  
“He retired to his rooms to rest after luncheon. The young Miss Stark arrived after he did so.”  
“She’s here? Already? My father said she was to arrive tomorrow.”  
“It seems she is early. I showed her to her rooms.”  
“What is she like?” She heard a horse whinny and realized the second voice must belong to her Cousin Jon.  
“Rather plain, my Lord. It is said her elder sister is the beauty of the family, it is a shame she could not be prevailed upon to visit.” Arya felt her face get hot; ‘of course they would be wanting Sansa and not me.’

“Yes, well, my father was adamant that it be the younger Stark girl to visit,” their voices got closer to the staircase where Arya was hiding and she quietly tiptoed back up the stairs and made her way back to her room. She hated that she could still be ashamed of her looks. _I’m no great beauty like Sansa, but if father wanted an envoy, better me than her, she’d probably simper at the Duke the entire time._

Back in her rooms, she sat next to the puppies and waited for dinner or to be called, whichever came first. 


	3. Chapter 3

“I remember Miss Stark when I was a child,” Jon continued up the stairs to his rooms with Varys not far behind.  
“How old was she then?”  
“Not much older than a babe, but very willful. She was, I believe around 4 or 5 when I spent that year in Winterfell after mother passed, and she had this toy sword her father gave her and she would whack us all in the shins if her older brother and I tried to leave her behind with her sister. And if she ever saw me sitting by myself, she would come over, thrust a toy at me, and make me play with her. Gods, Varys, did you forget to light the candles?”

They entered the hallway to his room and Jon was immediately confronted by a wall of darkness.  
“My apologies, my Lord. I’ve had much to do to prepare for Miss Starks visit, it must have slipped my mind.”  
“No bother for me,” Jon continued to his rooms unimpeded, “but see that they get lit, we can’t have Miss Stark stumbling around the dark in this house, she’d likely get lost.”  
“Of course, my Lord.” Varys removed the keys from his jacket pocket and opened Jons room.  
“Where did you put Miss Stark?”  
“In Lady Daenerys’ rooms.” Jon nodded and began taking off his riding boots, “forgive me, my Lord, there is much to do. Dinner is at 6, as always.” Varys bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  
Jon removed his dirty riding clothes and changed into a fresh set worthy of his fathers approval. He washed the dirt from his face and stared at his eyes in the mirror over his washing basin. The same color eyes that Miss Stark had, he remembered that, except hers had a mischievous glint in them, even at 5.

He was sad when he left Winterfell after that year. It was nice to have someone his own age to play with. His older brother Aegon was a few years older than him and away at school and Rhaenys too much of a lady to ever risk dirtying her dresses. At least in Winterfell, he could be himself unlike at home, where his mere presence upset his father. 

_Well, not always myself._ The thought of Lady Stark flashed in his mind. How angry she would get when Jon won a game against Robb or that one time she grabbed Arya’s arm so hard to get her away from him that it broke a bone in her arm. The wide eyed look Lady Stark gave Jon when they both heard the sickening crunch, and Arya’s wail, Jon knew he would not be staying in Winterfell long after that. And sure enough, he was back in Kings Landing a week later.

Jon examined his pocket watch, only twenty minutes until dinner; enough time to stop by his fathers room for a quick hello before dinner. He exited his room and was once again plunged into darkness. He’d have to quickly catch Varys as well and get him to light the east hallway for Miss Stark before she descended for dinner.

He ran to his fathers room, straightened his coat and knocked loudly. His father was known to ignore anyone who wasn’t Aegon or Varys, and admonish him later for not seeing him as soon as he arrived. The door opened to reveal Varys in his fathers room.  
“The Duke is in his bed, my Lord.”

“Thank you Varys,” Jon brushed passed Varys and entered the room, “and please see to the east hallway for Miss Stark.”  
“Yes, my Lord.”  
Varys bowed low and closed the door as he left, leaving Jon in the dim light of his fathers rooms. The only light coming from the fireplace that was forever burning even in the heat of summer.  
“Father, I have returned.” Jon called from his place by the door but there was no answer from his father so Jon continued, “Did Varys tell you Miss Stark arrived today? I was under the impression she’d be arriving tomorrow. It was lucky I returned a day earlier. Will you be joining us for dinner? After all, it was your idea to invite Miss Stark for a visit, it would be rude for you to miss her first dinner here.”  
Jon waited for his father to speak but knew, just like when he was a child, he’d scarcely get a word from his father unless it was spoken through Varys.  
He turned to open the door when his father spoke,  
“Give my regards to Miss Stark, and apologize to her for me for missing her arrival and dinner tonight. My…ill health…”  
“Yes father, I know of your ill health. I’ll gladly entertain Miss Stark until you recover.”  
Jon left his fathers room with a short bow of his head and made his way to the dining room to wait for Miss Stark and dinner.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jon glanced at his pocket watch, 10 past 6, and took another swig from his glass of brandy. Dealing with his father always put him in a foul mood and now he was hungry on top of that, waiting for Miss Stark.

He was about to go into the kitchens to send Varys or one of the cooks to fetch her when the door to the dining room opened and a small face peeked through. The first thing he noticed were her eyes, grey like his; but whereas his were lighter, closer to the color of steel, hers were like the color of clouds before they burst open and rained all over you. _What a gorgeous color._   
“Finally, I’ve been searching for the dining room for ages,” she said as she entered. He could see the thoughts forming in her head as she stopped short with her eyes wide, biting her lip and dipping into a clumsy curtesy, she tried again, “I’m sorry Lord Targaryen, I did not mean to keep you waiting.”   
“That is quite alright, Miss Stark, you have not kept me waiting long,” Jon lied while he bowed, not wanting to make Miss Stark feel more embarrassed than she already was. He extended his arm to the table and pulled out the seat meant for Miss Stark. He felt her heat pass by him as she sat down and his heart sped up; he balled up his fists and retreated to the head of the table before he did anything reckless, anything that his father might have done in his youth. He sat in his fathers usual seat, far away from Miss Stark, and rang the bell for dinner.

Dinner was a multi-course affair and the servants worked around the two of them, serving dish after dish and refilling wine glasses, while Jon tried to think of a topic of conversation for his dinner partner. He finally settled on addressing the issue of his fathers absence, “My father sends his regards and was disappointed that he missed your arrival, his ill health occasionally prevents him from his duties.”  
“Thank you, Lord Targaryen,” Miss Stark said quietly before taking a drink from her wine glass, conversation halted once more.   
The only sound in the dining room was the crackle of the fireplace and scape of cutlery against plates.   
“How are you finding your rooms?”  
“Very well thank you,” he noticed how she took care with her words, as if she was uncomfortable speaking.   
He saw her out of the corner of his eyes, look to him as if she were about to say something before stopping herself and continuing on with the meal, occasionally he noticed her squirrel a piece of something in a napkin on her lap and he wondered why but did not want to embarrass her further that evening.  
He wished he could say something that would put her at ease but even the simple platitudes of asking about her travels seemed mundane. As soon as he saw her enter the dining room all his memories of her and of Winterfell rushed back. And they mixed with new feelings, desire like he had never felt before, and never expected to feel for the cousin who once pushed him into the mud when they were racing because she wanted to win. Instead Jon kept silent trying to think of conversation instead of actually making it, and showing himself to be a poor host.

The plates were cleared and Miss Stark stood before Jon could help her out of her seat. “I—“ Miss Stark started at the same time Jon said, “Miss Stark.”  
“Please, go first” Jon said. “No, no I insist,” Miss Stark countered.   
Jon flashed her a sheepish grin but she was looking at her feet, worrying her lip, Jon wanted to do nothing more than grab her hands and force her to look at him. He cleared his throat, “Miss Stark, would you—“  
The door from the kitchen opened, and Varys stood in the doorway, “My Lord, the Duke has requested your presence.” Jon’s eyes tightened as he stared at Varys, he always suspected Varys had a sixth sense that only alerted him when Jon was going to do something fun or out of character. He nodded and turned back to Miss Stark, “I apologize Miss Stark, if you’d be so kind as to meet me in the parlor—“  
“I do believe it will be a long night with the Duke, my Lord, perhaps it would be better for Miss Stark to retire for the evening.”  
Miss Stark curtsied before Jon could say anything to her and exited to the dark hallway.  
“The Duke should not be kept waiting,” said Varys before he retreated to the safety of the kitchens.

Jon entered his father’s rooms without knocking, and took the seat closest to the door.   
“What is she like?” His father croaked from his bed.  
“I wouldn’t know, you called me away as soon as dinner was finished. I don’t see how I am to get to know a person if I treat them like that.”   
“Does she look like your mother?”  
Jon tried to keep his growing anger in check, “yes, I suppose she does.” All he ever heard from his father was how beautiful his mother was and while the painting that hung in her room was beautiful, he did not like the idea of comparing the lively Miss Stark to his mother.   
“What will you do with her tomorrow?”  
“I do not know father.”   
“Take her riding, your mother loved riding,” his father sighed and turned away from Jon to look into the fire.   
“Is that all father? Father?” Jon received no answer from his father and left.   
The walk to his rooms were dark and Jon cursed Varys under his breath. _I’ve asked him once if I asked him a million times to light the hallway for Miss Stark. It’s a miracle she is not lost wandering the dark hallways trying to get to her room._   
Passing by his Aunt Daenerys’s old rooms he saw no light coming from the bottom and continued on to his own room. She has more than likely gone to bed. _Gods you’re an idiot Jon, couldn’t make simple conversation at dinner with her._ He silently berated himself on his walk back to his rooms.   
_Tomorrow will hopefully be better._

 


	5. Chapter 5

The room was cold and dark when she returned to it. The puppies were huddled together using the curtain from the bed as a blanket. Arya picked them up and set them on her bed where they promptly settled under a fur.   
She carefully pulled the napkin full of meat pieces from dinner out her pocket and sitting on the bed, she carefully fed the puppies their dinner. Now knowing how to get to the stables, she planned on letting the puppies run outside after she was sure the household was asleep.

Feeding Nym and the white one, Arya thought about her Cousin Jon. _Or I guess I’ll have to call him Lord Targaryen the entire time I’m here._ He reminded her of her father but in looks alone. _Father isn’t quite as stuffy as Lord Targaryen._   
Nym yelped, taking Arya out of her thoughts and she scooped the puppies up knowing that if they didn’t get outside soon, they will make a mess on the carpet. She opened the door and hearing nothing, made her way to the back staircase that would lead her to the stables.

No one stopped her as she tiptoed down the dark hallway and down the stairs with the puppies in her arm, and luckily the door to the stables was well used and opened without a creak.   
The puppies ran a bit outside and Nym wanted to play a bit outside after being cooped up in the room all day, Arya would have gladly let her if not for the cold weather. The white one, as if reading her thoughts, bit Nym’s ear and she followed him toward Arya.   
Walking back up the stairs was easy enough but as soon as she hit the landing to her floor, she heard footsteps coming towards her. Having nowhere to hide, she pressed herself flush against the wall and hoped the darkness of the hallway would hide her, unfortunately, Nym chose that opportunity to yelp again.   
“Hello,” the voice belonged to Lord Targaryen, “who’s there?” He rounded the corner and stopped right before the door to the rooms she assumed must be his. “You might as well come out Miss Stark, I can see you.”   
His voice was low with anger and Arya didn’t want to have that anger directed at her anymore than it was, so she stepped out further into the hallway.   
“My Lord,” Arya Stark attempted a curtsy but was unsuccessful with her arms full, “I did not mean to disturb you.”   
“What have you got there?” Lord Targaryen’s stepped closer to her and Arya involuntarily took a step back towards the wall. She did not know why he scared her so much in that instance and she mentally kicked herself for not standing her ground.   
“It is nothing, My Lord,” Arya scurried past him, puppies squirming in her arms to get out and tried to walk to her rooms but Lord Targaryen fell in step with her.  
“Allow me to escort you back to your rooms.”  
“No need to trouble yourself, My Lord.”   
“No trouble at all.” His voice sounded angry and Arya sped up.   
He reached her door before her and opened it for her. “Is your fireplace not lit?” He barked at her when he peeked in, causing Arya to jump and scramble to hide the puppies from Lord Targaryen before he could see them.   
“No, but it’s no bother, Winterfell is much more colder than this.” Lord Targaryen nodded at her words but continued to stare straight ahead into the dark room.   
He looked down at her, gave a tight nod and smile, a move that made Arya think he was in pain to do so and walked away.

Arya set the puppies down on her bed and closed the door. _What a odd man. It feels like no one is prepared for me to be here, or even wants me here. I wonder if they would treat Sansa like this if she were here instead of me._

There came a knock at the door and when Arya opened it up, Lord Targaryen stood on the other side with a lit candle and one of the servants from dinner. The young man carried a bundle of firewood and he immediately set about starting a fire for Arya. Lord Targaryen stood in the doorway and stared everywhere but her. The servant finished and left Arya’s room with a small bow. Lord Targaryen turned to her, thrust the candle holder at her and left.

She snuggled under the furs with the puppies and wished that she were back home or that Robb traveled with her. _Would things be better or would Lord Targaryen treat us both like northern trash? He and Robb did know each other better, so perhaps I would still be the odd one out._  
Nym, as if feeling her owners distress, crept closer to her and settled right under her chin. The white one, right under Nym by her stomach and Arya fell asleep dreaming that she was Nym, chasing the white puppy and Robb around the grounds of Winterfell, always out of reach of the two them.


	6. Chapter 6

_You haven’t seen her since she was 5 and you act as though she were a leper. Gods, you couldn’t even look her in the eyes_. Jon retired to his rooms berating himself for not being a more agreeable host. _Her beautiful, grey eyes._ He shook that thought from his head, _don’t think that. Tomorrow I will be a better host, I wont answer to fathers every beck and call and I will get to know her better._

  
The fire in his room was already lit. _No doubt fathers doing. But could he not show the same courtesy to our guest._  
He and his father didn’t have the best of relationship. He preferred his older siblings to him and Varys was often a go between for the two of them. But his father would have to get used to Jon being around. Aegon was out galavanting in Essos and they did not know when he’d return and Rhaenys was married in Dorne. Jon was the only child Rhaegar had in the area for the time being and his estate was less than a days ride away so he could visit often. _And someone should be here to entertain our guest as Father is incapacitated._

 

* * *

 

  
Miss Stark was in the parlor before Jon, already eating breakfast. As he resolved to be a much better host the night before, he started off the conversation as he sat down.   
“Forgive me, Miss Stark for my intolerably rude behavior last evening. If it pleases you, I’d like to start anew,” Jon gave her the best smile he could muster without any coffee so early in the morning.   
“Thank you my Lord, and there is no need to apologize, you were not rude at all,” the way Miss Stark began worrying her lip after she spoke tipped Jon off that she was lying, but he let it pass. _No doubt the elegant Lady Stark trained her in how to be courteous._   
“It would be remiss of me for not asking about your travels, and indeed I should have done so yesterday, if you’d please allow me to pay all the proper attentions to you today.” Jon pulled at every memory he had from school on how to be a proper gentleman, one that would not give Lady Catelyn Stark pause if they were to meet again.  
“There is really no need,” Miss Stark began but Jon cut her off, “My dear Miss Stark, it would be my pleasure.”

He cleared his throat, put on an affected smile and began, “how was your journey, Miss Stark?”  
She gave him a quizzical look but answered, “Very well indeed, my Lord.”  
“Good. How did you sleep?”  
“Very well.”  
“Excellent!” Jon exclaimed, earning a small laugh from the lady, “what were your plans for the rest of the morning?”  
“I do not know. I suppose I could go for a walk through the gardens.”  
“A very fine plan indeed, Miss Stark. Now I shall give you a nod and a smile, and we will go back to being rational beings.” Jon did both and was pleased, when the lady stifled her laughs behind her hand.   
“What was that?” She asked, not giving a damn about propriety.   
“What? I figured if we were to be friends, it would be best to get the formalities out of the way. And nothing advances friendship like laughter, don’t you agree Miss Stark?”  
“Yes, of course my Lord.” Jon hated how she called him by his titles and decided he need to amend that situation posthaste.   
“Miss Stark you do not need to call me my lord, Jon would do just fine.”   
“Well, Jon,” he trilled at the sound of his name in her mouth, “you do not need to call me Miss Stark. No one at home ever does. My sister is Miss Stark, I’m only ever just Arya.”  
“Just Arya, I can do that” Arya stuck her hand out and Jon shook it, sealing the deal. “There now we are like proper cousins.”  
“Jon,” Arya said looking down at her plate, “I do have something to give to you. If you’d excuse me.”

Arya didn’t even wait for him to agree, she bolted from her chair and disappeared from the parlor. She returned with her hands holding two puppies that he was sure she was hiding the night before, and sitting back down, she began, “Lord Targaryen—Jon” she corrected herself, “my brother Robb wanted to give you a gift. He and father found a litter of them on the grounds, one for each of us and a sixth for you since you are also a Stark.” She set the grey one on her lap and handed him the white one, “we all picked ours and the white one was the runt of the litter but look, he’s bigger than Nym now. He hardly, if ever barks, which is very odd for a puppy, but he plays around with Nym a lot.”   
He noticed how unrestrained her words were and how animated her eyes got while she was talking about the puppies and he couldn’t help but smile. _There is the girl I remembered from my childhood._  
“Thank you Arya and please, thank your brother for me when you write him next.”   
She nodded and sat back in her chair with Nym curling up in her lap, “what are you going to name him?”  
Jon thought for a moment, staring intently at the white puppy in his hands, “Ghost.”  
“Ghost? Why?”  
“Because Milk isn’t a name that strikes fear into the heart of men,” he teased with a smile and Arya laughed.   
“No I suppose not.”

 

“If you don’t mind, I could join you for your walk? Show you the rest of the grounds.” Arya and Jon finished up breakfast and were sitting watching the puppies play in the parlor.   
“That would be nice. I didn’t get to see much of them when we drove up.”  
“No, you wouldn’t have, the best way to see the grounds is on horseback. Do you ride?”  
“Of course!”Arya exclaimed and Jon laughed at her enthusiasm, “only, I don’t ride sidesaddle.”   
“Don’t ride sidesaddle, how scandalous Miss Stark. How ever did you mother permit such a thing?”  
“Robb taught me. And what mother doesn’t know wont hurt her.” The mischievous glint in her eyes set Jon’s heart beating fast and he had to look away before he found himself doing something improper.   
“You can use my horse and I will use my fathers, do you need to change?”  
“Change?”  
“I don’t expect you to ride in a dress, if I recall correctly, you used to sneak into Robbs rooms and steal his clothes, I’d wager you still do that?” Jon stood up and offered his hand to Arya. When she did not take it and instead got up by herself, he quickly let it drop to his side.   
“I forgot that you lived with us for a period of time. I wish I could remember more of it.”  
“You don’t remember? No,” he shook his head in disappointment, “I suppose you were too young.” They left the parlor and immediately Jon’s voice dropped to a whisper, the rest of the walk to their rooms was conducted in that way.   
“Robb said he remembered you and wished he could come to visit as well. Perhaps he still can.”  
“Are you and Robb close? I remember you used to run to him for almost everything.”  
“Oh yes,” Arya gushed “he tells me ghost stories and helps me hide from mother whenever I get in trouble. He even helped me sneak Needle here.” Arya stopped short and look horrified at Jon.  
“What is it? What’s Needle?”  
“Nothing.” She hissed and continued walking.   
“Nothing huh? Now I will have to tease you about it everyday until you tell me.”  
“Maybe I will someday. But I’ll write to Robb and see if he can make it for a visit while I am still here, that would be fun.” They reached her door and she turned to face Jon, “shall I meet you by the stables?”

_I don’t want to share her with Robb._ The dark thought came unbidden to his mind and he felt guilty for thinking such of the man he once thought of as a brother. _Its not fair, though. I am just getting to know her. Perhaps it will come to nothing. Robb is certainly busy in Winterfell._ His smile returned as he walked to the stables to saddle their horses. The thought of seeing Robb was something he could look forward to after he got to know Arya better. _If time allows, I may be able to return the visit to Winterfell._

Arya entered the stables out of breath with the two puppies chasing after her, her long hair set into a messy braid, the breeches and shirt she wore, too big.   
“Robb’s clothing?” He asked as he handed her the reins to his horse.  
“Yes,” she answered with a sly grin, “What’s your horse called?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The week passed quickly for Arya. She met Jon at breakfast and they would ride until lunch. Though the Duke never joined them for any meals, they still met at the designated times, the routine already being something Jon was used to. In the evenings they passed their time playing games. Jon taught her how to play snap dragons and Arya bested him at Are You There, King Aerys?  When they got tired of playing, Arya would retell stories Robb had made up for her.

She could tell Jon was lonely being the youngest child of the Dukes while all his siblings were married or away. He was very attentive to her and gave into her silliest demands easily, which Arya took advantage of. It surprised her how well she and Jon got along. They talked of growing up in Winterfell versus Kings Landing and what it was like growing up with so many siblings. She did not touch too much on the subject of Sansa but spoke nonstop about her brothers. Jon for his part, filled in the blanks of her memories regarding his period of time in Winterfell.  
“My brother and sister are older than me so it was nice having someone my own age to play with. And when Robb was in trouble, you and I spent time together.”

 

  
They were coming in after their ride and as was their routine, they went straight to the dining room for lunch. As Jon opened the wide door for Arya, the smiles left their faces when they saw Duke Targaryen up and about in the dining room with his pocket watch in his hand.  
“Excellent timing, I was afraid you were going to be late.”  
Arya dipped into a low curtsey, her cheeks reddening, “My lord,—“ she was running through the list of courtesies in her head, and settled on firstly apologizing for being dressed improperly but before she could get the words out the Duke took her hand in his and began “My dear lady, I want to thank you for your visit.” He steered Arya into her chair and took his own at the head of the table with Jon sitting across from her. As soon as they were all settled, he rang the bell and lunch was served.

“I hope my son has been keeping you entertained, Miss Stark,” Rhaegar said in between bites.  
“He has, my lord,” Arya gave a small smile to Jon who looked pained across the table from her.  
“What have you been up to in my absence?” Rhaegar asked Jon.  
“We’ve been riding. I showed Arya the grounds—“  
“Excellent, and what do you think of the grounds, Miss Stark?”  
“They are beautiful, my lord.”  
“Yes, my Lyanna used to say the same as well. Are you comfortable in your rooms? Varys mentioned that your father did not send you with a maid.”  
“No, no he did not,” Arya’s cheeks reddened again, _no doubt he is bothered by my riding outfit_.  
“No bother, I have dispatched Varys to send for a girl from town for you, she will be here for you after lunch. Did you enjoy your travels down to Kings Landing?”

Arya couldn’t keep up with the Dukes personality. He jumped from topic to topic without much care in what was being said. The lunch went on in a similar fashion and a lot longer than her and Jon usually ate, the Duke asking her a multitude of a questions while Jon remained mostly silent. She was glad when lunch was over but as soon as she escaped into her room a knock interrupted her thoughts. She answered the door to the servants who carried a large tub, and then hot water. A young girl came with them and she curtsied with a small “m’lady” upon meeting Arya. _The fun is over_ , she thought as the young maid immediately set upon unbraiding her hair.

 

* * *

 

  
Jon followed his father into his study after lunch. His fathers long white hair flowed behind him as he walked and Jon wanted nothing more than to yank it. _Why couldn’t you just stay in bed?_ The dark thoughts kept intruding but Jon was able to place its source this time, jealousy. He wanted Arya all to himself. _Like when we were children and she used to look up to me like I was a prince._ He wanted the two of them to tell each other everything again; for Arya to consider him her best friend like she did when they were younger.

“She is a lovely girl, don’t you think?” His father asked as he sat behind his desk.  
“Yes father.”  
“A tad rough around the edges, but your mother was the same way,” a wistful look took over his face and Jon frowned and looked to his feet. Jon loved his mother, he truly did, but he hated being constantly reminded of her, and that was all his father did. And with the thoughts of his mother, came the memories of being sent to live with the family he did not know a week after his mother passed. _Instead of us mourning together, you sent me away_. He never forgave his father for doing so even if that year was one of the better ones in his life.

“Varys tells me the two of you have been getting along rather well.”  
“Yes, I suppose we are,” Jon walked to the corner that held the liquor and poured a brandy for his father.  
“Thank you,” Rhaegar took the offered glass and slowly sipped the liquid, eyeing Jon carefully, “she will make a fine wife one day.”  
“Is that a question, father?”  
“No, just an observation.”  
Jon nodded his head, “well, if that is all, I need to write to Tarly.”  
“You don’t remember,” Jon stopped and turned back to his father.  
“Remember what?”  
“When we all went to visit Winterfell when their second son was born.”  
“What was I? About 7, father?”  
“Yes around that age,” his fathers voice got more despondent as he reminisced and Jon knew that he would probably not be joining them for dinner, “she was so enamored with you, the young Miss Stark, and your mother thought it was precious how you doted on her. The betrothal was natural. Truthfully, her father indulged Lya more than he should have.”  
“What betrothal, Father?” Jon questioned loudly, he didn’t mean to but to learn of his supposed betrothal like that astonished him.  
“Shhh,” Rhaegar motioned for Jon to keep his voice low, closing his eyes as if he were about to drift off to sleep, “Between you and Miss Stark. That is why she is here. To renew the bond you once had.”  
“We were children, father! Does she have any say in this? Do I?,” Jon yelled and stalked up to his fathers chair.  
Rhaegar‘s eyes snapped opened and he gripped Jons arm in his hand, his strength suddenly returned to him, “Promise me you wont tell her, Jon, promise me.” The look in his eyes scared Jon, one he had never seen before, a mixture of sadness and fear; his fathers grip on his arm was like a vice and Jon could only nod to try to get away.  
“Say it,” his father demanded.  
“I promise, father.”  
He released his grip and stood slowly, all his energy drained, “help me to my room, Jon.”

 

_Married to Arya._  He mulled it over in his mind as he helped his father to his room and then into his bed. The very thought of it thrilled him.  _You’d have her forever._ It was a dark thought, he knew that, but he didn’t push this one away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, between traveling for work and then a major ipad malfunction, I have not had the time to edit what chapters I did have or work on continuing the story. I will try to do better now that I am home for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

“Why aren’t you married?” Arya asked as they walked around the gardens with the dogs chasing after them.   
“Are you asking?” Jon teased with an easy smile to Arya but inside his heart was beating like a drum.  
It had been 3 days since his father told him of his betrothal to Arya and he still hadn’t broached the subject with her. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed her company, or how lonely he really was, and as they spent more time together, his memories of doting on her when they were younger came back, mixed with his current growing admiration for her.  
“Don’t be stupid,” Arya teased back, “I’m only asking because Robb is your age and he’s betrothed to Miss Mormont.”  
“I was engaged for a while, but it didn’t work out.”  
“I’m so sorry,” Arya reached out and rubbed his arm, the warmth that radiated from her hand felt as though his skin were on fire.

“It’s quite alright, it happened ages ago,” Jon smiled at her through the haze his head was in, he didn’t feel sad about the dissolution of his engagement, at least not in that moment.   
“What was she like if you don’t mind my asking?” Jon stopped and stared off into the distancing, trying to parse out the words to describe Ygritte Rayder. Truly it had been a blessing in disguise. They were not engaged for more than a month before she was flirting with Aegon, shamelessly vying for the more handsome, elder brother who would inherit the Red Keep. Luckily for both of them, Aegon paid her no mind and Jon was able to see the truth of her character.

Jon settled on “Opportunistic,” and continued walking, “what about yourself? Where is your husband?”  
“Me? Oh I never want to get married.” Arya bent down and picked up a stick to taunt Nym with.   
“Never?”   
“Never. I mean, I know I will have to someday, my parents have reminded me time and time again that no one will take care of me if I didn’t, not even Robb, but if I had my choice, I’d never get married.” She threw the stick and they both watched as Nym and Ghost bounded after it.

“What would you do?” Arya looked up at Jon confused, “If you could do anything, be anything,” Jon clarified for her.   
“I’d be a pirate,” Arya responded quickly, “I’m serious!” She retorted when Jon started to laugh, “I’d join up with some ship in White Harbor and sail away. See what’s west of Westeros.”  
“Can I join you?”  
“Sure, you can be my first mate.” Arya’s smile warmed Jon to the core. _If I could, I’d make it so she never frowned again._

  
“Tell me about your family. I know you and Robb are close but what about your sister? Are the two of you like..well sisters?” Jon asked sheepishly, _are you two sisters like sisters, really Jon?_  
“Not really.” Arya looked down and started rubbing at the dirt on her hands. Jon wanted to reach out to stop her but thought it would be to forward of him.   
“Does she still tease you?”   
“It’s a bit more than that. And a bit crueler,” Arya said the last words quietly, as if she didn’t want Jon to hear them, “Bran is great though. Very smart and I swear, its like he can read your mind. And Rickon is a handful for mom but I get along well with him.” She regained her usual composure and smiled at Jon but he noticed that it didn’t reach her eyes.   
“I remember,” Jon grabbed her hand and pulled it through his arm so they could walk on, his heart was pounding in his ears as he did so, “she used to be very mean, to me and you. She hasn’t changed?”  
“Why would she be mean to you?”  
“The stories of my parents nuptials no doubt.”   
“I am sorry that Sansa treated you horribly, I’m fairly used to her now, but to treat others like that is intolerably rude.”  
“She used to call me bastard,” Jon said in an effort to bond with Arya, “when she thought I wasn’t in earshot, she’d ask your mother ‘how long is the bastard going to be staying with us?’”  
“And mother didn’t reprimand her?” Jon shook his head.  
“That is horrible, Jon, I’m really sorry. She would call me horse face. And she’d get her friend Jayne to do it as well. And…” Arya’s voice trailed off and she began worrying her lip, a melancholic look shadowed her face, “I know I’m not exactly who she would like me to be; I’m not pretty or lady like enough for her and if she had her choice, I would not be her sister, but—“ she cleared her throat and looked up at Jon, he could see the tears swimming in her eyes and could see how she refused to let them spill. Instead, she just smiled at him and said, “sorry.”   
Jon squeezed the hand that was hidden in the crook of his arm and said, “no need to apologize, we are here now, away from Sansa’s severe judgement, lets see if we cant get into a spat of trouble she’d disapprove of.”  
Her smile was radiant and Arya’s eyes were immediately filled with a look that made Jon both worrisome and happy, “what kind of trouble?”


	9. Chapter 9

Varys found Arya the following day as she was leaving the parlor after breakfast.  
“Oh Varys, just the man, I wanted to see. Would you mind sending this out?” she handed Varys the letter she wrote home, “Jon has one to send out as well. He’s finishing up now.”  
Varys dipped his head and said “Miss Stark, I would be happy to mail this for you. And I wanted to tell you and his lordship, that the Duke will be joining you for dinner this evening.” Varys hid the letter in his jacket and entered the parlor to find Jon.

 _I guess I’ll have to change._ Arya was wearing a drab grey dress, a hand me down from Sansa, and she didn’t want to disappoint the Duke since she saw him so infrequently. Indeed, she was troubled by how little she saw of him and while she enjoyed the time she spent with Jon, a bit too much, she could not help but notice that her diplomatic journey wasn’t exactly panning out the way she thought it would.

The afternoon turned grey and rainy and she was feeling low over her lack of exercise for the day. Nym was as well. Instead of bounding over Arya like she normally did, she whined at the door and didn’t stop until Arya opened it for her and she left in search of Ghost.  
Arya followed after her, ready to stop her from getting into places she didn’t belong. She did a poor job of stopping Nym as she ran into the west hallway, the way to the Dukes rooms, the hallway that was forbidden to her.  
“Nym stop,” she whispered but it was no use, Nym was excited to see and smell a new part of the house, and truth be told, Arya’s heart was racing to be in the forbidden area.  
With the little light that shown through the closed shutters, Arya was able to make out some features on the dark, faded tapestries that hung on the walls. More dragons in mid air and more of a fight on a snowy field with a group of terrifying men on skeletal horses.  
Arya lost sight of Nym and peeked into the open door that she was sure she must have gone through. The room was untouched, and a fine layer of dust covered every surface, including the bed.  
A large portrait hung above the fireplace without a speck of dust on it, burnt out candles littered the mantel. The woman in the portrait, Arya thought, must be Aunt Lyanna. Her father always told her that she looked like Aunt Lyanna but seeing an actual portrait of her made her realize how similar they looked.  
She heard Nym at her feet and picked her up, “lets get out of here” she said to her puppy. She heard her maids laugh as she approached the door and hid herself behind the door.  
“That’s why she’s ‘er. They’re gettin’ married.”  
“But the Miss didn’t say anything about being betrothed to Lord Targaryen. And to think Miss Stark was keeping secrets from me when I told her all of mine. It’s no bother, I’ll get them out of her—“  
She peeked her head out of the door and saw her maid and one of the stables boy turning the corner and as quietly as she could, she closed the door to her Aunt Lyanna’s old rooms and went back to hers, fuming at what she heard her maid say.

 

  
She hacked the air with Needle while she waited for her maid to come help her dress for dinner. _Betrothed_? _Where would she even get an idea like that? Must just be gossip._ But her mind unwittingly flashes to all her time spent with Jon and all the weird looks he gives her. _Like_   _he’s in love with you, stupid._  
She shook her head to get rid of the thought and sliced the air in frustration. _As if he could be in love with Horse Face_. The small knock at her door interrupted her thoughts and she quickly stashed Needle under the bed.

“Miss, if you’re ready?” the maid entered timidly, _time to get changed._


	10. Chapter 10

The letter from Tarly stated urgent matters needed to be attended to at once, the local poachers were becoming bolder while he was away. _I’d hate to leave Arya but—and Dragonstone is but a few hours ride. I can be back by tomorrow evening if I leave now and take care of these blasted poachers._

His father was less than agreeable to the plan but couldn’t deny that Jon needed to attend the matter in his own estate. He knocked on Arya’s door to tell her that he was leaving but when she did not answer he left the message to her maid. He needed to be on the way to Dragonstone by noon and hopefully be back before she had to spend too much time alone with his father.

* * *

 

“How is she?” Tarly asked while they rode to find the high sheriff.  
“Who?”  
“Miss Stark? You were all a flutter when you found out she was visiting the Red Keep, has she lived up to expectations?”  
“Miss Stark is as I remembered her.”  
Tarly looked dejected that he wasn’t getting any more information out of Jon that he could then share with his wife, Gilly, “so she’s not going to be the future Lady of Dragonstone, I suppose?”  
“No, she wont be” Jon answered sadly. He didn’t know just when he got to be so fond of Arya and his return to Dragonstone, while brief, made him sad to be away from her. He used to enjoy the routine he had; he’d visit the Red Keep a few times a month to spend time with his father, or Aegon, whenever he deigned to return from Essos, and his duties at Dragonstone and with Tarly kept him busy; but having a bright spark like Arya around, made him realize just how much he needed a companion to share his time with, “at least not yet.”  
‘I’m sure you’d have better luck with the lady if you smiled more,” Tarly joked.  
Jon flashed him a grin, “I assure you Arya’s company is better received than yours.” He spurned his horse faster.

Dinner with Tarly and Gilly was the usual affair where they retreated into their own world and forgot Jon was also at the table. He let his mind wander to Arya and what she was possibly doing alone in the Red Keep; he hoped for her sake she was able to take dinner in her rooms.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Arya was surprised to see the Duke in the dining room that evening. _I suppose since Jon isn’t here, he’d want to keep me company_. His purple eyes shone was he pulled her chair out for her and called for dinner, the conversation wasn’t as erratic and Arya could see what he must have been like as a young man, charming, clever and attentive to his guests. She could see how any woman could fall for him, even her Aunt whom she was always told was headstrong.

“I must be poor company compared to my son, but I’m sure you and I can still get to know each other, don’t you agree, Miss Stark?”  
“Yes, of course My Lord.”  
“Wonderful, Miss Stark. I trust you are enjoying your stay here, it has been entirely too long since we’ve had company and I was afraid we’d be poor hosts.”  
“On the contrary, my lord, both you and Jon have been gracious.”  
“Jon?” The Duke asked and Arya’s cheeks reddened and she quickly corrected herself, “I mean Lord Targaryen, my Lord.”  
“You and Jon have gotten close?” Arya’s ears started to ring, _is he going to bring up the betrothal?_  
“Yes, my Lord. He has been very kind to me.”  
“Excellent, I am glad.”  
“Why exactly am I here?” Arya blurted out without thinking. She stared at her plate and said a silent prayer that he’d say she was only there for a visit. When he didn’t answer, she looked up at him and said, “am I to be engaged to him?”  
“You already are.”  
The smug look on his face took Arya aback, she stood up so quickly that the chair fell behind her, “no I cant be, father would have told me,” she yelled at him. He didn’t say anything to her sudden outburst, only picked up his wine glass to drink. “I’m leaving, I’m going back home.”  
She reached the door of the dining room when he finally spoke up, “your mother and father knew of this match, why do you think they sent you here alone?”  
“They would have told me,” she yelled.  
“Write to them if you don’t believe me.”  
“No, no. I’m leaving.”  
“Insolent, impetuous child, you will do no such thing,” he roared at her as he got up from his seat at the table. He slowly made his way to Arya and she could see him balling his fists as he tried to restrain his anger, “please,” he said sweetly as he placed a hand on her back and guided her back to the table, “sit. We have not finished dinner.”  
Her heart was beating in her chest and she wanted nothing more to do than cry, biting her cheek to stop herself from doing so, she made her way back to her seat.  
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, your betrothal, it has been set since you and Jon were children. His mother wanted it and your father agreed. I merely asked you here to fulfill their wishes.” He took another sip of his wine and stared at her.  
“You’re lying.”  
“Write to your father, he’ll say the same.”  
“Does Jon know?”  
“Yes, of course.” The words slipped sweetly from the Dukes mouth and Arya burst into tears.

 

* * *

 

  
The more she thought of her betrothal, the more it would hit her like a ton of bricks and every interaction she had with Jon changed in her mind. No longer was he the lonely cousin that kept her company, now he was the conniving villain that conspired to steal her away from her family. She changed into her riding clothes and shoved her hair into a cap. Tucking Nym into her jacket, she snuck her way down the stairs, grateful for the first time since arriving there, that no candles were ever lit in the hallway.

The door opened without a creak and she ran to the stables. The lock on the door to the Dukes horse made fresh tears spring to her eyes. Putting Nym down, she tried to pull the lock.  
“A futile effort Miss Stark,” Varys said from behind her, “He wont let you leave.”  
“So I’m trapped here, forever.” She hated how small her voice sounded. _You are a wolf, act like it._  
“Not forever Miss.” The pitying look he gave her made her blood boil. She pulled her shoulders back and did her best to walk confidentially back to her rooms, Nym followed with a small growl to Varys.

She spent the evening writing a letter to Robb and her father and in the morning, she thrust the letter into Varys’s hands and retreated to her rooms for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there isn’t any confusion, Jons part of this chapter takes place simultaneously as Arya’s previous chapter and experiences in this chapter.


End file.
